Elven Therapy
by nightmistress85
Summary: Rachel's missed her flight out to her brother's wedding and it leads to an afternoon...and evening that she never expected with a certain someone. First 4 chapters rated T. Trent/Rachel and some Quen/Ceri. BMS spoilers! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own any of these characters. They always have and always will belong to the lovely Ms. Kim Harrison.**

God, I was such a bumbling idiot. Only I could _possibly _leave my ID at home for one of the most important events of my brother's life. Damn, I could have _sworn_ that I'd had it. Sure, everybody knew me. I was in the paper enough. My naked front _and_ backside was all over the media plenty enough after that stint from not even a month ago. But I guess that wasn't enough as far as airport security was concerned. I totally missed my flight out west, and everything was booked until tomorrow. Sure, I could try to ride a line out there, but I was still a newb and this wasn't a life or death situation...rather a 'til death do us part' one. I hoped he didn't think that I forgot it on purpose. Oh well. At least it gave me one day less of his nagging about when it'd be _my_ turn to walk down the aisle. Sometimes I wondered if it would ever be the right time for me.

I decided to leave my luggage in the car since I was going to leave in the morning. Enjoying the quiet while everyone else was already heading west, I decided to turn on the tube. Lucky me, _Terminator 2_ was on. It was at the really awesome part where Sarah Connor was trying to escape from the mental institution. Now _she_ was cool...for a human of course. In a way, she was a woman after my own heart. If only the world knew what I knew. And who knows? Maybe someday my kids would be as badass as John Connor. A sense of destiny undoubtedly surrounded them, and they weren't even here yet.

Before I got too depressed about it, I'd heard Rex mewing as she walked into the living room. The poor thing jumped into my lap, seeming to grasp that she would be starved for attention over the next few days. She made it quite obvious that she wanted me to fill the quota until Jenks returned. Somehow cats could always tell when you'd be gone for the day or longer. They'd adjust their needs accordingly. "Nobody's around, so you love me now, eh?" While purring, the cat pushed her head further into my hands as I scratched under her chin. I couldn't help but smirk just a little.

Petting Rex had been the most therapeutic and relaxing point of the day. If it were up to her she would have stayed on my lap all day, but a jingling at our mailbox caught my attention. I sat Rex down, deciding to meet the mail man. She was still in such euphoria that she barely noticed when I stopped. Opening the door, I started, "so who wants my money now, Mr. Mail Ma-" Whoops. It wasn't the mail man, rather it was Quen. He was surprised to see me. "Rachel?" he started. "I thought you were heading out west for your brother's wedding." _Man, they're good at keeping tabs on me._ I thought, slightly annoyed.

"So did I. Rachel being Rachel is why I'll be staying put until tomorrow." I said, my disappointment obvious. "What brings you by?"

"Well, I am sure you're very aware that Ceri is due soon," he said calmly.

"Yeah? That's great to hear, Quen! So, I'm guessing that elves carry for nine months as well?" I asked, my mood improving slightly. He nodded.

Usually I wasn't too big on kids until they were a little older. Admittedly, I wasn't exactly Barney, but a new baby was still exciting. I noticed that Quen seemed a little nervous. Daddy-to-be jitters perhaps? He was in his later forties, and this was his first child. It would undoubtedly be a change in his routine and priorities. "So, would you like to come in? I could make you a cup of tea if you'd like," I offered.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm fine. I was just in the area and wanted to personally deliver an invitation for her baby shower."

A smile crept to my face. "Did they have baby showers back in her time?" I asked.

"Yes, they did," he affirmed. A look of concern crossed his face as he continued. "I really want this for her. She has been very isolated as of late per Dr. Ander's orders. Ceri understands that it is necessary for the sake of our child, but it is stressful. In addition to that, she is experiencing mood swings of a mother-to-be. Perhaps her spirits would be lifted if she were surrounded by a few friendly faces." His eyes were soft and sincere. He so obviously loved her. After centuries of servitude in the Ever-After, I was happy for Ceri to find him.

"So, is there a registry? No offense, but I'd rather not pick an item that I'll be paying off for the next 5 years. At the same time, I'd really like to get her something special."

"Sa'han has already prepared a list. Perhaps you should contact him?" He said with a sly smile. His intentions were far from subtle. I was sure that Quen memorized every item on the list. He just liked creating opportunities for me and Trent to end up in the same vicinity.

"Quen..." I sighed.

"I believe he has other matters to discuss with you. However, this could be a good topic of conversation. Even though he's a master at hiding it, Trenton is almost as excited about the birth as we are. And considering his purpose, his joy may surpass our own."

That was Trent for you, doing all that he could to save his race. No matter the price. No matter the consequence. No matter the blood on his hands. He believed it was worth it, and now he would witness the success of his lifelong efforts.

Weddings, and babies, and weddings, oh my! As long as there were no funerals, I could manage it.

"All right, all right." I gave in. "When does he want to meet? Luckily, my afternoon just freed up."

It was damned hard to turn him down. What could I say? I liked the guy. There was no point in asking why Trent wanted to meet with me. I knew that Quen wouldn't make a peep until it was time to get down to business.

"He should be in the office this afternoon. I can drop you off there if you'd like," he proposed.

"I guess that'll work. I'll grab my jacket. See you in the car."

Before leaving, I realized that my plain lavender sweater simply wasn't going to do. I had been dressed for a long and potentially chilly flight. I usually went for casual and comfortable in those instances. Though I wasn't dating Trent, and kept telling myself that I didn't like him, I was always very appearance-conscious around him. I must have had some sort of subconscious complex. I could one-up him in certain areas, but wardrobe was one of the many where there was simply no contest. Even if I had money, I still couldn't do it.

Trent never looked anything less than impeccable, ever. From his Armani suits, to his custom made Italian tuxes, to his designer jeans and sweaters, to a burlap sack, he just made it work. Every. Single. Time. But considering he'd seen me at my most naked...and my most hairy, I should have been over it by now. But even though the mystery was over, I guess things didn't change that easily. A smile crept to my lips as I realized the only solution. I simply had to get even someday.

I decided to quickly change into a blue spaghetti-trapped top since it matched my jeans and black ankle boots nicely. The cut of the flowing satin lace top exposed what little cleavage I had, but I worked with it anyway. Grabbing my leather jacket, I left the church.

_**To be continued...**_

**A/N: Special thanks to Frankie and ask for beta-ing for me! I think it's tons better now. **


	2. Chapter 2

Quen pulled up to the front of Kalamack Industries. I got out of the front seat of the town car and waved at the pox-scarred man as he drove off. I never sat in the back since it made me feel like I was a child. On the way over here, we were discussing all of the best ideas in regard to the shower. I even asked Quen if they were considering marriage. He didn't answer me directly, but he implied that Ceri wasn't sure if she was ready. I vaguely remembered her telling me that her wedding was actually a key event in having become Al's familiar. I guessed it was a sore spot that she'd have to work through.

I walked towards the all-but-unforgettable lobby to find that Sara Jane was indeed still working for Trent. We'd been on good terms until she got a bit peeved with me, to say the least, when I'd used some info that she told me in confidence. It was regarding her dead, not-really-boyfriend when I'd been trying to take Trent's ass down for murder. It all ended up being one big lie anyway, so it really didn't matter in the long run. Even still, oh how the mighty have fallen to have gone from that to now casually meeting with the man.

"Good day, Ms. Morgan," said the petite button-nosed blond with a genuine smile. I sensed no hint of malice in her high-pitched voice. "Mr. Kalamack says for you to come right in. Would you like for me to bring you any coffee or tea?" she offered pleasantly.

"Oh no, thank you. I'm fine," I replied as I headed towards his door.

I gave a knock or two on the beautiful wooden door. I heard a muffled "come in" and opened the door to find Trent sitting at his desk, sifting through a stack of paper work--busy, busy, busy as always. Gorgeous and powerful too, as always. God, he was gorgeous... I'd gotten a little better at hiding it, though it was hard to tell if Trent knew how attractive I still found him. I noticed that he hadn't been calling me out on it lately.

Apparently he was in a classical mood as Rachmaninov's Piano Concierto No. 2 played in the background. "Rach fan, eh? Sounds like the end of the first movement," I started while closing the door, raising my voice slightly so that he could hear me from across the room.

"I prefer it when I want to work more quickly. You're good with your classical it seems, Morgan," he said, inclining his head in greeting. He was clearly impressed. _And there's that beautiful soothing voice again. _I mused.

"Well, to be fair, it is an extremely famous piece. It's also one of my favorites," I responded as I walked closer, taking a seat across from him. Being a pianist herself, Ivy enjoyed classical music. It was inevitable that I'd be exposed to a fair amount of it. It was quite the genre. There was nothing more historic. There was nothing more timeless.

"Sooo, what's happenin'? Quen said you wanted to meet?" I asked.

"Yes. Thank you for coming on such short notice," he started. I eye-rolled as I wondered how long it would take for him the quit with the formalities. "I would like to know if I can have your help in regards to the artifacts in my vault." I raised my eyebrows. _Wow, he must be starting to trust me more than before! _I thought to myself.

I wanted nothing more to do with that vault though. Trying to let him down easy, I started, "Oh...well...I mean I-"

"I know that you probably don't have the fondest memories there, Rachel. But I've been working around the clock examining the inventory and what it could all mean." A tinge of frustration showed beneath his visage as he looked away from me. I felt for him a little. There were answers right in front of him that he couldn't figure out, even after more than a decade of his own attempts.

Still, I was unswayed. "Trent, that's a lot of inventory. I'm really busy myself and-"

"I just figured another pair of eyes and another perspective could prove useful." He turned back to me, those gorgeous green eyes hungry with ambition.

I looked away. "I understand, Trent, but-"

"There is some information and perhaps there are artifacts related to projects that your father worked on with my father," he finally conceded flatly. And that pretty much did it. I jerked back to him. Our eyes met and we could see the pang of desperation within each other. I swallowed hard. We would always share the mystery of wanting to know what our fathers did. I felt lost. He felt lost. But together we could probably make it through. We surely did it in the past, no matter how rocky. Trent genuinely wanted for me to be a part of this discovery. No way would I miss out on the opportunity to learn more about my father, and ultimately myself. I just hoped I wouldn't regret this, walking out with more questions than I already had. But in the back of my mind, I figured that would probably be the case. _I am _such_ a glutton for punishment._ I couldn't help but think.

"I'll do it. When do you want me?" I said definitively.

"I hear your flight was cancelled today for your brother's wedding," he said. I could sense the amusement in his voice.

"Not exactly..." I said, scratching the back of my head as my eyes slowly rolled down to my knees. I wasn't going to get into it any further. Trent smirked, not bothering to ask why, but he likely knew it was my own fault.

"Could we start tonight then?" he inquired, trying to feel me out.

"Ha! Man, you never miss a beat, do you?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're worse than a kid during Solstice! Not sure how far we'll get, but since my night is free, I guess we can start on it tonight..."

"Great!" he said. He rose from his chair and walked to the front of the desk. He leaned against it, looking fabulously stylish in his suit. His pose could totally work for the next issue of _Forbes'_ Wealthiest Bachelors. He could make that list for many years to come. And in that moment, it was quite clear that he was _definitely_ aware I still found him attractive. This "posey-desk" move was sooo unnecessary.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. _What a hell of a question looking like that right now..._ I mused.

Controlled, I responded, "Actually, I could go for a light lunch." In all honesty, I was famished to high hell since I didn't eat before leaving for the airport, and then stress curbed my hunger after I missed my flight. Maybe by 'light' lunch he would think I meant his idea of it, which was a full course meal for anyone that wasn't an elf...or 400lbs. Elves had high metabolism supposedly.

"Sounds good. Come with me. We can see what's available in the cafeteria," he said, rising from the desk to head out. I followed closely behind him, taking in his aroma of crushed leaves and cinnamon.

When we arrived at the 'cafeteria', it occurred to me that I'd never been to this part of the building. And yes, I use the word 'cafeteria' sparingly since this place looked like something closer to a 5-star restaurant. Yup, working for Kalamack certainly had its perks, barring you could keep secrets of course...

The place was completely empty aside from a couple of people on stage with instruments. One had a violin in her hand. Was this a dress rehearsal perhaps? Trent had disappeared on me before I could ask. I decided to sit towards the back so as to not distract the band members. Trent reappeared again, almost as fast as he'd vanished, but this time he was holding a plate and utensils. He placed them in front of me. "Thanks!" I said with surprise.

"You're welcome. When I heard you were coming, I asked the chef to prepare a meal for you before he left," he said, pleased with his effort.

I smiled. One thing went hand and hand with Trent, and that was damn good food. It looked like an Indian curry dish. It was still warm and smelled incredible. They must have kept it in the oven for me.

"I have to practice for a moment. I'm holding a benefit concert for my orphanage. You can eat, and then maybe we can get out of here afterwards," he suggested, but I already started eating. My were eyes focused on my plate, but I did nod, half listening to him. Man, this was sooo good.

Then the music began, distracting me from my dish. I did a double take. My was mouth full as I was chewing, but I had to concentrate so as to not drop my jaw in shock. I then managed a hard swallow. Trent had removed his suit jacket, picked up a guitar, and proceeded to play _Concierto de Aranjuez. _It was another classical and meaningful piece. Trent had the honor of being the guitarist, but he took it to another level.

He was Trent, the freakin' Mariachi! Damn was he good. I just shook my head in disbelief, surprise plastered all over my face. He eyed me from across the room, smirking while never missing a beat. Just the right amount of passion to respond to the violinst. He was present. He was amazing. But he was never overpowering. No, the ever-so-prevalent violinist was none other than Councilwoman Bennett's daughter. She was no older than 15. There was no doubt that she was a prodigy. Her classical training really shined through as she hit complicated cords that could take an average violinist a lifetime to master. I closed my eyes as she continued her solo.

I let the textbook and emotionally perfect rendition take me away. I surrendered myself to the piece. Slowly shaking my head, I felt it all melt away. I was free of my life, my stresses, and my burdens. In that moment, I could feel what the music was conveying. I understood the imagery and wanted for the enchanting melody to go on forever, never ceasing. They played and played, and I just wanted more... But then it ended. Far too soon it ended and I opened my suddenly tear-filled eyes, dabbing at them before anyone saw me. Well, anyone other than Trent. He'd only been looking at me the entire time. I was glad that I chose a seat towards the back. Why was I so emotional today? It could have been because it was such an incredibly intimate moment. This was one of the greatest pieces of all time, played to perfection with an audience of solely me. Yes, that was why. It had to be. It was magnificent to say the least.

I was no longer hungry.

"I think we're on track, everyone," Trent said to the group, placing his guitar back on the stand. He grabbed his jacket and walked back to me. "Are you okay?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered quickly, probably giving away that I was anything but fine. "Trent, that was absolutely amazing. How long have you been playing guitar?"

"I've been playing guitar for a good 20 years now. My parents wanted me to play an instrument. Elves are attuned to woodwind and stringed instruments, so I had my pick of guitar, violin, piano..." he went on.

"And you decided on guitar?" I interjected.

"For today, yes." He smiled.

My eyes were wide with shock as I just couldn't believe how much he'd been holding out on me. He was a walking one-man symphony orchestra! He was classically trained in _at least_ three instruments, and lord knows how many more since I cut him off. Indeed, I thought the point was clear that he was extraordinarily talented with his hands.

"I think the band and I are on the right track, so we could head over early if you'd like," he offered, refocusing on where his heart truly lied. He was ready to drop everything for the day to try to get this done. But I guess I could understand. The sooner we started, the sooner we'd finish.

"Let's go," I answered, centering my thoughts on the task at hand. There was never a dull moment for me...

_Lucky, Rachel Morgan._

_**To be continued...**_

A/N: Next chapter, I may upgrade it to M or just post it as a separate story. As for the pieces I was referring to in the fic, if interested you can hear them here from Youtube:

.com/watch?v=ZjmRPbwJEPo&feature=related - Piano Concierto No. 2

.com/watch?v=rKzZ1wSnTQI&feature=related - Concierto de Aranjuez


	3. Chapter 3

Trent was thoughtful or paranoid enough to have uniforms created specifically for entering the vault. Interestingly enough, one was available in my size as well. I figured he didn't want the stench of Ever-After in his expensive clothing time and time again. As for me, apparently he knew that I would agree to this eventually. _Damn elf._

The vault wasn't the biggest room, but there were so many mysteries within mysteries of each artifact, sculpture, painting, or what have you that I couldn't for the life of me know how Trent's father kept track of it all. This was all total information overload for me. I sat and studied one fairly large two by four foot piece for at least two hours. The sun had long set and it had been time to start considering when to go home. However, unfortunately this one sewn piece really had me and Trent stumped. With our high-powered jeweler's magnifying glasses, we could see that the fabric was indiscernible. There was no doubt that it originated in the Ever-After. Its detail made me curious as to what the needle looked like since it must have been unimaginably small. The piece was a mosaic of a dilapidated structure. If you asked me, I thought it looked like some type of aqueduct. The disturbing part about it was that the piece was comprised of hundreds of artifacts from demon, witch, and elf mythology alike. I was absolutely clueless as to how it all connected. And if this structure actually existed in the Ever-After, where the hell could one find it? I debated with myself as to whether it'd be a good idea to ask Al about it, but I was sure that Trent would strongly oppose. Not that Trent's opinions ever stopped me before...

He sat next to me the whole time, fully concentrated on the piece as well. I glanced at him, brow furrowed in concentration and frustration as our heads were mere inches apart. "I'm sorry, Trent. I'm totally tapped out," I said, mentally exhausted.

He turned to me, a tired smile on his face. "It's alright. I think I am too," he said.

"Umm..." I hesitated, knowing that my suggestion would likely be unwelcome.

"What is it Rachel?" His voice was curious with maybe a smidgeon of hope.

"I think our best bet is to take another field trip to the Ever-After?" I said, bracing myself for his flat-out refusal.

He looked distant. "As much as I hate to admit it," he sighed, "we may have no choice." Bitterness crossed his face. I knew quite well that he wanted nothing to do with the Ever-After if he could help it.

I couldn't really tell you why, but I laid a hand on his shoulder in hopes that it would comfort him. "Well, at least we can come and go whenever we please now," I assured him, and maybe myself a bit. It was certainly an adjustment considering the years we'd both spent believing otherwise. He looked at me and nodded, his green eyes softening. We could read each other. It always helped knowing that you weren't alone. My god, his eyes were as beautiful as they were vulnerable. He hesitantly raised his hand to brush my face, as if instinct and logic were competing with one another. His suaveness always faltered with me one way or another, but instinct won out. I felt his warm hand gently caress my cheek. I hadn't felt tingles, so he must have really been concentrating. I slowly blinked, relishing in the feel of his skin against me. We'd stared and stared at each other, neither one of us realizing that our distance closed with each second. I was utterly mesmerized. Our lips were so close that I could feel his breath on me. We paused.

"Rachel..." he said my name, and that silky, irresistible voice was my undoing. I closed the gap, moving my hand from his shoulder to his neck. His lips were unbelievably soft and his skills promised so much more. I felt his hand wrap around my waist, pinning me to him. There was a slight contrast to his actions. He was kissing me so gently, yet pinning our bodies together more forcefully. As our kiss deepened, with my hand still on his neck I pulled it in even more. And then suddenly, I felt tingles. He'd been trying so hard to control himself, but finally let it go. The sensation was utterly amazing. I lowered my hand to lift his shirt...

And then someone's phone rang. _ Dammit! _ I yelled in my head. We broke our kiss slowly with mutual frustration towards the interruption. Breathing heavily, I tried to collect myself. _Just whose phone was that anyway?_

Low and behold, it was mine. Trent was still holding me, but he released me slowly, looking as exasperated as I felt about the cock block. But then, I realized that it wasn't actually ringing, rather it was simply the alarm going off. I exhaled loudly as I grabbed the phone to turn it off. "I thought I'd set it to 'off'," I said with a nervous chuckle. "That phone of yours sure knows how to interrupt my plans..." he mused, and I thought back to the time when it rang while I was up at the altar for his wedding. Flushing, I continued my nervous laughter.

He smiled slyly, knowing exactly what crossed my mind. "I think we should head back to the main house. It's about time for dinner. Would you care to join me?" he offered.

I thought about it for a moment, knowing that every second I spent with him was really bad for my will power. But what the hell. "As long as there's a glass of Chardonnay with my name on it, then I'd love to." I smiled.

We left out. Since my last visit here, Trent had a shower system installed nearby. The man really did waste no time. I was willing to bet that he wanted anyone in the vault to wash out the stench of burnt amber before going anywhere else on the grounds. That was probably a good idea. I was getting a bit more used to the smell myself, so it definitely helped to have a reminder. Compared to the main house, I was disappointed with the standard locker room design, but I suppose it got the job done. We had our own rooms too. What a shame...

_**To Be Continued...**_

_**A/N: Just FYI, but from this point on, if you don't see my story anymore make sure to change your view settings so that you can see the stories that are rated M. **_


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a while since my last visit to Trent's private quarters. The place still managed to take my breath away. If you wanted to experience a true indoor-outdoor world, there were few places that could compare. I preferred the ground level because it immersed you into the atmosphere. On the top level you felt more like a spectator, and boy was it a sight to spectate.

I visited here last winter and witnessed what seemed physically impossible as his waterfall had been producing icicles. It was truly a marvel since the area was room temperature. But now, there were no icicles. I was beginning to wonder if the waterfall was meant to reflect the corresponding season. I also remembered there being snow on the leaves--that was now absent as well. It was clear to me that magic was undoubtedly involved.

It looked as if Trent had his ward fixed since my last visit. I'd touched it out of curiosity, but as a result, the monstrously large "window to the Ever-After" had taken on the color of my aura. Purely accidental, I swear! Even more peculiar was that it matched the aura of the creator, Lee. It was somewhat embarrassing having my aura exposed big as day to Quen, Jonathan, and Trent like that. It revealed more about myself than I'd wanted them to know.

Trent guided me to the dinner table, but I was dying to try out his bar. "I thought we were going for drinks," I said with a glance towards the long expanse of wood and chrome.

"Oh, of course," he responded as if he'd been distracted. "I'm sorry. Often times I tend to have my wine with dinner," he explained.

"Well, last I checked you can eat at a bar too." I winked and smiled. He cooly nodded in agreement.

"Maggie!" He called as my all-time favorite waffle maker emerged from the kitchen.

"Good evening, Mr. Kalamack!" she greeted him, warm and professional as always. "Oh, we have Ms. Morgan with us tonight!" She was pleasantly surprised.

"Oh please, call me Rachel!" I insisted.

"She found it a bit too hard to resist joining us for another evening," Trent teased, his face brightening up. Maggie always had that affect on him.

"Hey now! You," I started, placing my index finger on the center of his chest, "I can resist. Maggie's cooking on the other hand," I continued, turning my attention to the chef with a sly smile "is a much taller order."

While I was sure she was used to compliments, Maggie seemed genuinely flattered. "Oh dearie, you are too much!" she said, tickled pink. "What can I get you?"

Thinking back to the last time I was here, I remembered Trent saying that Maggie could make a mean set of wontons. Suddenly, I was in the mood for Chinese. "Could I try some of those famous wontons?" I asked, hopeful.

"Absolutely, dear. Will it be the same for you, Mr. Kalamack?"

"That sounds great, Maggie. We'll be at the bar. Morgan here would like a drink."

"Then I will bring your plates right over in just a bit," she nodded and then headed back towards the kitchen.

Trent went behind the bar as I climbed the barstool. "Chardonnay was it?" he inquired, searching through his bottles of well-aged wine. I nodded. "I think I've got one better," he said, pulling out a bottle and a couple of wine glasses. He unwrapped and uncorked it. It felt sort of nice to know I'd be getting a fresh bottle. He poured the light liquid into our glasses and then headed back around the other side of the bar to join me.

I was eager to take a sip, but I hesitated, deciding to wait and see if Trent would make a toast. I was right. He held up his glass, "To discovery," he said as we toasted.

The wine as it went down incredibly smooth as I drank it. It was absolutely delish and I closed my eyes to savor the taste. "This is so good, Trent!" Curious, I grabbed the bottle to look at the name. It was Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet. Now, I wasn't a wine guru, but I knew that a set of these would cost a good fifty grand, maybe more. No wonder I hadn't tasted it before. _Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and famous... _I thought.

Taking another sip, I sighed. "Do you really think we'll figure out anything with the vault?"

"We have to, Rachel. I'm sure my father didn't create it as a joke," he stated definitively, swirling his glass. Now distant in his train of thought, he took another sip.

* * *

Trent didn't lie. Maggie's wontons were indeed the best in the world. She threw in a lo mein entree for kicks. I couldn't imagine how Trent managed to stay fit with such temptation just a simple request away. I was sure his high metabolism helped a lot, and I was beginning to wonder if there were any overweight elves...

"Perfection as usual, Maggie. I hope you have a great evening," Trent declared, voice raised slightly so that she could hear him from the kitchen.

"Ditto over here!" I added.

Pleased, she came out of the kitchen and made her way over to us, purse in hand as she was about to leave.

"It's always a pleasure," she responded, turning to Trent. "You be good," she lectured, lightly tapping his shoulder to match each syllable. "I'd rather Ms. Mo-, Rachel," she corrected herself, "visit a bit more often than every year or so." She furrowed her brow, placing her free hand on her hip. Ears red, Trent looked at me and I gave him a big toothy smile, like a kid whose mom just deemed her winner of an argument.

He nodded quickly, slightly mortified but unwilling to talk back to her. "Goodnight, Maggie," he said, giving her another farewell.

"Goodnight you two," she nodded and puttered out the door.

Lips tight, I gave a teasing smile. "Just how long has she been your personal chef?" I asked.

"Since before I was born," he said, eyes soft. "You could say she's like a second mother to me."

"That would be the _only_ excuse I would buy."

"Tell. No one." He demanded, but not very threateningly. I wasn't planning on it anyway. As I thought about it, I sorta liked being one of the few to know that she could reduce him to absolute mush. I couldn't really blame him though. I'd only met her once before, but I probably wouldn't say no either.

I then flushed as it occurred to me that we were completely alone...again. "Umm, Trent, about that vault..." I started, trying to feel him out a little.

"Yes, I'm sorry for letting it get out of hand like that. I don't know what came over me."

I felt a tinge of disappointment, though I was unsure why. Ah hell, I totally knew exactly why. We'd gotten better with our relationship, bickering less and really making an effort to treat one another like adults. He actually wasn't half bad to be around after all. _Silly me for being remotely hopeful that he'd be interested. And even _sillier_ me for being interested. _

"Well, I should be going now," I uttered quickly as I swiftly gathered my bag and hopped off the stool.

Nervous adrenaline rushed through me as it felt like the door couldn't be farther away. "Rachel!" he called from a distance, but I kept going. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the staircase and began to ascend it.

Startled, I stopped as he suddenly took my hand. If he wasn't the definition of stealth then I didn't know what was. He had to have been at least a hundred feet away. "How do you keep _doing_ that?" I demanded, not facing him.

Still holding my hand he came around to face me, now taller than usual as he was one step higher. "It's just an elf thing. You know that," he stated. "And I also think you know that it will do neither of us any good to pretend like nothing happened back there," he continued, confidence slightly shaken.

I was beginning to feel even more confused. "Well it was a mistake, right? We were both a little emotional and-"

"Feelings are rarely a mistake, Rachel," he interjected. "The reason behind those feelings may be a mistake, but the emotion itself is honest."

"Well, what good is it anyway? For all intents and purposes, I'm a demon! I'm the very thing you hate the most! You just tolerate me because of your father," I exclaimed.

"There's no denying that demons are not my favorite species. There's no denying that my struggle between you being a witch or demon has affected our relationship in the past. But as you well know, we've been getting better these days. We both understand that being at each other's throats isn't going to get us anywhere. I am who I am, and you are who you are. But I'm starting to realize that it isn't the witch or the demon that drives me crazy. It isn't the witch or demon that's saved my life. It isn't the witch or demon that knows how to push every button of mine. It's simply Rachel. And if you would have let me finish, I would have told you that even though I was apologizing for letting it get out of hand, I do feel something for you. No matter how much I deny it or refuted it, it's there. And it's likely been there since we were children. I just wasn't sure if we were moving too fast back there," he confessed sounding completely vulnerable and sincere.

I was terrified and I was sure that it showed. I half expected to wake up from a dream. I couldn't believe that he was saying these things. In the back of my mind, I knew that I always wanted to hear it. We both wanted acceptance and acknowledgement from each other. It looked like I had but, but I wasn't exactly sure of how to answer him.

"Just be honest, Rachel," he said, clearly aware of what I was thinking.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. "You know that there's no going back, Trent."

"I don't want to go back," he whispered, the sound resonating through my body as I shivered. If he hadn't been aware of the effects his voice had on me before, then he surely was now.

I exhaled once more and opened my eyes. He was still there, eagerly awaiting my response. I was sure he knew the answer based on my body language, but he needed verbal confirmation.

"I don't think it was too fast. And...I also have feelings for you," I admitted.

"Then what would be a good pace for us?" he asked, gripping my hand a little tighter.

Feeling my hand in his, I knew that this was our chance. "I'm guessing the pace of any relationship that has 15 years worth of catching up to do," I answered, low and confident.

His eyes grew hungry. I half expected him to pull me to him right then, but he calmly led me up the rest of the staircase until we reached the top. "I'll call for a driver," he said, leading me to feel utterly confused and defeated. "...in the morning," he finished. My heart stopped suddenly as he pulled me in, capturing my lips in his own.

He was holding back on me again. Amazing kisser no less, but I didn't feel his tingles. I dropped my bag, wrapping both arms around him as the intensity increased. I could feel him going for my top. I released my hold on him as he slipped it over my head, exposing my black strapless bra underneath. He admired it for a moment, then kissed me once more.

As nice as this was, I needed to take it up a notch so I jumped him, legs to either side. He caught them without difficulty, almost as if he expected me to do it.

He led us through several doors, breaking our kisses to open them by voice command. It was a slight distraction, but I knew where it would lead.

We finally reached that very special and ever-so-elusive door--the one to his bedroom. He released his hold on one of my legs so that he could open it the good old-fashioned way, by turning the knob...

_**To be continued..**_.

**A/N: I know that I said this chappie would be M, but I like to keep my chapters limited to 1,000-2,500 words . I'm pretty sure you can assume that the next one will be M for real this time, haha. **


	5. Chapter 5

With our lips locked and his arms supporting my legs, Trent carried me further into the room. Our lips parted as he gracefully tossed me to his bed. I yelped lightly, the weightlessness having startled me for a moment as I travelled farther than expected. Though instead of killing my mood, adrenaline surged through me. His room was dim and I couldn't tell where I was, or what was around me. It seemed candlelit, but I couldn't tell where the light source was coming from. I could barely make out anything aside from Trent's shape standing at the foot of the bed, and the feel of soft silk sheets against my back. Though fluid, his near-silhouetted figure appeared to be quickly unbuttoning his shirt. Tossing it aside, he climbed onto the bed. Based on his efforts, the bed was high off the ground.

I watched as he slowly closed the distance between us once more. Now topless, I could discern his tanned, fit form as he crawled above me. I inhaled, taking in his aroma of outdoors and spice--so invigorating and fresh. I memorized his strong arms, toned midsection, smooth chest and, lastly, the expression upon his face. It was a look that I was sure few women got the chance to witness. I won't lie in that it felt like I was placed smack dab in the middle of a romance novel. Here was this stunningly perfect man, eyes fraught with emotion, all of it for me. While he looked human, he emitted a wild, otherworldly aura that even a human could pick up on at this point. There was primal desire for me, no doubt, but I could sense something more. He'd been waiting for this, _longing_ for this._ But for how long? _I thought to myself. _Longer than me?_

If I was right, I knew he'd soon show me. He was no master vampire, but the desire in his eyes, along with the demon mark that we shared further stirred my own desires. With his face mere inches away from mine, I leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. Avoiding my lips, he laid slow, steady kisses along the curve of my jaw, each one leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. He moved to my neck and I turned my head for easier access. I wanted to moan but I held back, exhaling deeply instead.

Making his way from my neck, to my collar bone, to my chest, he'd found his way to my bra. His hand lightly caressed the path that he'd kissed, and then it continued, reaching behind my back. Effortlessly he undid the hook, pulling my bra off, and I was now as topless as he was. He'd seen me before, but that didn't make him any less enthused. He grabbed my right breast, squeezing it lightly. He then took the other one in his mouth, and this time, I moaned.

The tingling sensations hadn't subsided from where he'd kissed me before. They were like a constant reminders of where he'd been. And now, with every suck I could feel the sensation from my breast radiate throughout my whole torso, heightening my sense of touch to a level I'd never experienced. As amazing as it felt, if this continued I wasn't sure I could last much longer.

He moved from my chest to my stomach. As he moved below my navel, the sensations radiated to my groin, resulting in an even louder moan. He then stopped, sitting up to unbutton my jeans. Pulling them off in one smooth motion, the feel of his tongue replaced the denim against my skin. Licking my thigh, he moved higher to the side of my hip. I'd been wearing bikini bottoms with fairly narrow fabric at the sides. Trent took full advantage of this, taking the strip of fabric into his mouth and ripping it with his teeth. He did the same for the other side, securing that I would leave here commando-style.

I had a passing thought about how he'd seen all of _tha_t too, along with my then ridiculously hairy legs. I was slightly relieved that he could see I indeed was _not_ a hippy. However, that occurrence seemed to be the farthest from his mind, and it soon became the farthest from mine.

He smoothly placed a kiss on one hip, then the other, and then between my legs. I let out a long groan, arching my back and clutching the sheets in my fists. Aside from the wetness his tongue provided, I could feel my own increasing. My breath was fast and heavy and I knew I was close but, damnit, I needed more.

I wanted to see all of him too, taste all of him. I raised his head from my groin, guiding him up to my face. I then went for the button on his pants. His pants were nice, but they didn't conceal anything. He was ready to go. I swiftly rolled us over, now claiming the top spot. Returning the favor, I removed his pants, wondering if preferred boxers or briefs. It was neither--at least today. He was wearing a pair of dark, fitted trunks. He looked _so_ good in nothing but his undies, but I wanted him to look even better, so I removed them as well.

His lower physique was just as amazing. Muscular thighs and calves (undoubtedly thanks to Tulpa), nice feet, and a nice set of "equipment" that he probably thanked good genes for every single day. If not, then he _should_ have been. He was the anti-male witch. Hell, he even ranked on higher end where humans were concerned. If politics didn't work out and Kalamack Industries went under, he could always have a lucrative career in modeling...or as a porn star.

He closed his eyes as I stroked him, rolling his head back with a sigh. That was a sign that it felt good, but it could be better. Taking the hint, I took him into my mouth.

He let out a low and deep groan as I sucked him. I finally could hear the sounds of pleasure I'd been longing to hear for years. His breath came faster as I sucked harder. In this moment he was completely vulnerable to me, and I found it so fulfilling and empowering. I was in control. As his moans became louder, I figured he was close--but I wasn't done yet. I wanted more. I needed him inside of me.

As he anticipated my next move, he rolled his head back down. Our eyes locked as I ran my tongue up his body, from his defined obliques, to his rock-hard abs, to his chest, to his neck. We kissed again and I could taste myself on his tongue. He wrapped his arms around me, rolling us over so that he was back on top.

Our eyes remained locked as he moved one hand from my back to his groin. He carefully slid into me and I gasped. I'd never been with a man of this size before, and he knew it. It was tight, but it felt good. His strokes were slow and careful at first. He laid kisses upon my shoulders, but I could feel no additional tingling.

His strokes gradually became faster--and our moans louder. We quickly flipped over, placing me on top once again. He reached out to me and I grabbed his hands, intertwining our fingers. With the extra support I found it easier for me to grind him harder. My orgasm was close, but it lingered on that level, like a plateau. I'd never experienced this before; it was interesting but unfulfilling at the same time. We stroked more and then suddenly, I could feel him beginning to climax. Soon after, I felt his tingles inside of me and we screamed--our fingers clutched tightly. I arched my back as I let the sensation run through me.

I collapsed onto him, feeling his chest move up and down as he was catching his breath. I was doing the same, though it was difficult as my nerves wouldn't calm. He was still inside me, and I could still feel every tingle. Suddenly, the sensations from each tingle surged through me, providing an even bigger orgasm than the first one. I moaned and screamed once again, a little from pleasure, and a little from fear. I could finally feel them start to subside, and my consciousness with it.

* * *

I awoke to find myself still in his bed. The room was bright and my eyes weren't adjusting right away. Still squinting I rolled over, yelping as I fell and hit the soft carpet. I guessed my eyes weren't working well enough quite yet. Mortified and still somewhat weak, I collected myself as my eyes slowly adjusted. I glanced up at the bed. It was definitely three or four-feet off the ground. I slowly peeked over the top, blushing at my clumsiness, but the bed was empty. Relieved, I stood up to see the entire bed. I dropped my jaw at its size. A small village could sleep on it. It made "king-size" seem like "twin-size" and I was sure that it was custom made. I felt even more stupid having fallen off a bed this large. It was certainly well-built, each bed post about eight-feet tall. It made me doubt I could sleep in any other bed ever again.

I scanned the rest of the bright room. It was quiet, peaceful. It reminded me of a Presidential Suite from some hoity-toity hotel. However, the cleanliness and order of the space _screamed_ OCD. It was somewhat of a relief to see the ruffled sheets on the bed and our clothes strewn about the floor. The ceiling was ten-feet tall, decorated with colorful images of wild life. The curtains to his balcony were open, revealing a striking view of his fields. I peeked out to see if Trent was there, but he wasn't. "Trent?" I called out, but heard no answer. Scanning the room for a robe, I didn't see one so figured that Trent must have been wearing it. I then decided to grab his massive silk sheet, wrapping it around myself as I left the room.

Heading down the corridor, I could smell cooking from the kitchen. _Man, Maggie works around the clock!_ I mused, slightly annoyed. She was great, but this would make it slightly more difficult to grab my top that I'd left there. The door to his "living room," if you could call it that, was open. Since the kitchen was tucked away, I decided to chance it since she probably wouldn't see me. I looked over the railing and immediately spotted the blue fabric. I carefully descended the staircase so as to not trip on the sheet. Unfortunately, my efforts were in vain as I caught a piece under my foot, yelping as I tried to steady myself, both hands grabbing the banister. Miraculously I caught myself...at the expense of losing the sheet. Peeking over to the kitchen, I jumped as I spotted someone in the doorway--Trent.

He was smirking as I again tried to wrap the sheet around myself. He was still naked and I did a double-take as it sank in. It was official--he looked god-like in _any_ kind of lighting. "It's just us, Rachel," he assured me. "And good morning," he added with that unmistakeable "morning-after" smile.

"Good morning to you, too." I smiled back.

"You were pretty out of it, so I was going to bring you breakfast. Maggie is off today."

Staring at him, I smirked. "Looking at you right now, I would_ hope_ so. Or else we'd need to discuss a few things."

He chuckled.

"So, what are you making?" I asked, carefully taking the last few steps until I reached the first level.

"Oatmeal, sausage links, and a fruit salad," he started. "It's all ready actually." He seemed enthused.

I approached him in the door way, laying a gentle kiss on his lips. "Thanks," I said, extending a hand from under the sheet to touch his face. I could see something new in his eyes as he looked at me. We were connected now; he probably considered me to be his. But I won't lie--it didn't feel half bad to be one of his prized possessions now. I'd been fighting it for so long, but I guess this position is a little different from where he used to want me.

I could feel the tingles from last night again. They were weak in intensity, but there; Trent somehow knew. "Come," he suggested, gesturing for me to follow him. We walked over to the fire place since the area was open. "Lay the blanket down," he instructed, and I ungracefully tried to unwrap it. It was too long to stretch out myself, so Trent grabbed one end and we both were able to spread it out and lay it neatly on the floor. He sat on the blanket, implying I should do the same. "Lay on your stomach, Rachel," he said, and I laid right in front of him.

He gently stroked a practiced pattern on my back; some strokes with one finger, others two. I was curious as to what it would look like if I could see it; modern art perhaps?

Gradually the tingles were subsiding again. "Is this another elf thing?" I asked.

"Yes. It's a special technique developed for when we don't take a fellow elf as a lover," he replied as if he were reciting it.

"I see. So, will you need to do this every time? Not that I mind or anything. It actually feels quite nice--beats a massage any day."

"I can do a lot of things that will beat a massage." I could hear smugness in his voice.

"After last night, I completely believe you. And by the way, what's with the tingles? They were controlling my orgasms!"

"Well, it ensures that not only will be both climax, but we'll do it together; however, sometimes it will cause an 'after-shock' of sorts."

"Oh, basically it's wild elven magic at it again, huh? Will we have to do this every time after we make love?"

"You have to build a tolerance to it. I kept it light last night though. You will have to build a tolerance for every level. That may take a while. It's merely Ever-After energy that we elves always have within us. You're not used to the elven perspective yet." I sighed at the idea of us together over and over again, with levels even higher than before. "In due time, Rachel." Privy to my thoughts, he laid a kiss on my shoulder. It was soft, sweet, and devoid of any tingles.

"See, I don't feel them right now," I said.

"Well, I can channel when and where to emit them." He laid another kiss on the back of my neck. "We're done now," he said as he rose and walked towards the kitchen. "We should go back up to my room. Maggie won't be around, but Quen may be soon enough."

"Good point." I quickly gathered the sheet. "Can I bring something?" I offered, walking towards the kitchen. He emerged again, tray in hand with our meals neatly presented. I blinked. "I guess not."

* * *

We decided to eat out on his balcony, still naked. No one could see us. Breakfast was incredible. The sausage links were juicy and tender; the hash-browns, crispy and flavorful. Trent _clearly_ only had Maggie around because he didn't have the time to consistently make meals himself. The fruit was, of course, as fresh and rich in color as if it were just picked from an orchard. My favorite fruits--honey dew, cantaloupe, watermelon, red grapes, strawberries--were all there, and they were the sweetest I'd ever tasted. It was official: Never again would I shop in the produce section.

"You're quite the cook, Trent," I complemented, wiping my mouth. "And wherever you're growing your fruits, it's world class."

"No, Maggie is quite the cook. I'm just a good student, with a good orchard. I'll show you sometime. But yeah, I practically begged her to show me how to make a few things. It never hurts to know a few good recipes for when she isn't around."

"Good point. Think she'd show me?" I inquired.

"Not a chance. You know how she is about her recipe secrets."

"Maybe I'll have to become a fly on the wall one of these days," I teased. He gave a playful scowl; surely he associated my shapeshifting with screwing him over. Though I hated to admit it, it was true.

"You know I'm just kidding. Besides, it's a pain to get rid of all the hair when I turn back. You and the rest of Cincinnati certainly know what that looks like..." I blushed slightly. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was due to having been exposed cavewoman style as opposed to Playboy style. If you were gonna flaunt it, you wanted to flaunt it well.

"That's not a problem," he uttered.

"Huh?" I was confused, sitting up so as to make sure I heard him correctly.

"Let's just say...we elves appreciate all things natural," he admitted.

Eyes wide as saucers, I blinked twice. _He _liked _me all hairy and whatnot? _"W-w-wait, so you're saying you _prefer_ that? But you're so clean cut and you dress so well yourself!"

"I am saying that I have no preference. And if we _must_ dress, we'd rather do it right. It's a conscious effort," he admitted.

I sat back in my chair completely baffled. But I guess it made sense. Elves were so attuned to nature and incorporated it into their lives as much as possible--even when unconventional.

"So, when is your flight?" he asked.

Eyes wide, I realized that I completely lost track of time. "Oh my god, I'm going to miss it again!!" I said, covering my face. I immediately jumped up and ran into the room. I found my jeans and then laid on the bed, pulling them up with ease. Spotting my bra at the other corner of the bed, I lunged across to grab it. I could have really used a shower, but there was no time. The clock display on his dvd player said 10am. I might be okay since my flight was at noon. But I had to haul ass. _Blue shirt, blue shirt, blue shirt...shit. _It was still downstairs. I ran out to grab it from the living room.

I raced down the stairs, nabbing the shirt. As I attempted to put it on, I was having difficulty pulling it down. I then realized that the straps were crossed. _Yeah, that would cause difficulty._ I mused. I tried to calm down, working the shirt back over my head.

"Rachel?" I heard that all but familiar voice, but I was blinded by blue. Finally getting the shirt over my head, I saw Quen and Ceri standing across the room.

"Morning!" I said, nervous and flushed as they put two and two together. I looked down, straightening my shirt, conveniently avoiding looking at them. I didn't want to waste too much time though since I was only in my bra. Finally able to get the shirt on, I gave him a nervous smile. Skirting the issue, I started, "I hope you two are doing well. I have to catch my flight, so we will talk when I get back." I waved and raced up the stairs.

Trent was still in his room, now donning a robe. I slipped on my shoes, trying to remember how they got off in the first place.

"When is your flight?" Trent asked again.

"Noon."

"You'll never make it."

"If you can get a driver to drive me lightspeed to my house, I may be able to make it."

"Rachel, you'll never make it," he firmly stated.

"I don't have a choice, Trent. I _have_ to make it," I insisted, panicked.

He sighed. "Look, I can arrange a flight for you out of here, so you don't have to kill yourself trying to race home."

I wasn't sure that I liked the sound of that. "And just how do you plan to do this? How fast can someone be ready to fly."

"As soon as I ask. I have access to a small airport. Just take my plane," he urged.

It was probably one of the planes he used to import Brimstone from his islands. Instinct still told me that I owed him something for this "favor." But maybe it was time for me to begin to trust him a little more. I really needed to get there as soon as possible. I sighed, "Okay, Trent." Heck, he was 50% of the reason why I was here again. I would have been at home, curled up with Rex all night, ready to go _on-time_ this morning.

But he looked so sexy just standing there in his robe. It was hard to stay mad at him; however, it was much easier to want to kiss him--and so I did. "Thank you," I said for the second time today.

"Okay, I'll give you a ride. I'm in the mood for a drive."

"Great! Oh, Quen and Ceri saw me by the way. So they'll need an explanation soon," I added.

He stiffened. "I think I'll hurry up and get ready myself," he said, rushing to his closet to his closet for what looked to be casual wear. He had several closets for each event--work, play, formal gatherings--and I was beginning to realize I just slept with a man that has more of a wardrobe than any woman I know, myself included. Yeah, this relationship was going to bring so many new experiences for me. I just hoped it would be a good one for a change.

**The End (for now).**

_**A/N: I am sooooo sorry that it took this long to get it out! Life's been keeping me busy, but this story was on my mind every night until I finished it. I was damned determined!! I want to thank my awesome buddy, WeLcOmE2pArAdIsE, for beta-ing the last couple of chapters! And thank you all for reading! If I get more free time, I would like to create a sequel. The vault opens up a whole new world of possibilities. Please R/R. **_


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